in the darkness, reappear once more.
At once the falsehood of our guise is known,
The shields, the lying arms, the speech of different tone.

LVII. "O'erwhelmed with odds, we perish; first of all,
Struck down by fierce Peneleus by the fane
Of warlike Pallas, doth Coroebus fall.
Next, Rhipeus dies, the justest, but in vain,
The noblest soul of all the Trojan train.
Heaven deemed him otherwise; then Dymas brave
And Hypanis by comrades' hands are slain.
Nor, Panthus, thee thy piety can save,
Nor e'en Apollo's wreath preserve thee from the grave.

LVIII. "Witness, ye ashes of our comrades dear,
Ye flames of Troy, that in your hour of woe
Nor darts I shunned, nor shock of Danaan spear.
If Fate my life had called me to forego,
This hand had earned it, forfeit to the foe.
Thence forced away, brave Iphitus, and I,
And Pelias,--Iphitus with age was slow,
And Pelias by Ulysses lamed--we fly
Where round the palace rings the war-shout's rallying cry.

LIX. "There raged a fight so fierce, as though no fight
Raged elsewhere, nor the city streamed with gore.
We see the War-God glorying in his might;
Up to the roof we see the Danaans pour;
Their shielded penthouse drives against the door.
Close cling their ladders to the walls; these, fain
To clutch the doorposts, climb from floor to floor,
Their right hands strive the battlements to gain,
Their left with lifted shield the arrowy storm sustain.

LX. "There, roof and pinnacle the Dardans tear--
Death standing near--and hurl them on the foe,
Last arms of need, the weapons of despair;
And gilded beams and rafters down they throw,
Ancestral ornaments of days ago.
These, stationed at the gates, with naked glaive,
Shoulder to shoulder, guard the pass below.
Hearts leap afresh the royal halls to save,
And cheer our vanquished friends and reinspire the brave.

LXI. "Behind the palace, unobserved and free,
There stood a door, a secret thoroughfare
Through Priam's halls. Here poor Andromache
While Priam's kingdom flourished and was fair,
To greet her husband's parents would repair
Alone, or carrying with tendance fain
To Hector's father Hector's son and heir.
By this I reached the roof-top, whence in vain
The luckless Teucrians hurled their unavailing rain.

LXII. "Sheer o'er the highest roof-top to the sky,
Skirting the parapet, a